Chapter 9

Anya

I hear voices when I step out of the shower, but I figure it's just my mom and dad. My mother's been excited about making lasagna, and she even told me she made something special for dessert. I don't know why she's going all out on dinner, but whatever. It's a comforting thought, considering the turmoil inside me.

My phone dings on my dresser, and I pick it up, checking the text that just came through.

Willow: Sex is highly overrated, right? Like there's no reason I should expect too much from Lake, right?

I stare at the text thread between Willow, Hartford, and me.

Hartford: Sex is never overrated. When you're with the right man it's worth it.

Willow: How do you know if you're with the right man? I care a lot about Lake, but we just can't seem to get the sex right.

Is it that bad?

Willow: Maybe there's something wrong with me. Maybe I'm just not a sexual person.

I can totally relate. I think sex is overrated. That mind-numbing sex they talk about in romance novels isn't real.

Hartford: I beg to differ. Sex between Pax and me is off the charts. (Sorry Anya)

I laugh, and am grossed out at the exact same time, but it makes me wonder if Hartford is right. Is there life-changing sex out there?

Willow: It's not just the sex between Lake and me that's bad. We've been sort of fighting a lot.

Hartford: About what?

Willow: I don't even know, tbh. He's always sort of controlling.

Dump him. You don't need that in your life.

Hartford: Controlling in the bedroom is a plus, but not in ordinary life. Do you even see a future with him?

Willow: Not really. It was just nice having somebody. I don't want to be alone forever. And he's not controlling in the bedroom. He's not really anything in the bedroom.

You won't be.

I put my phone down, thinking about my own life. Will I be alone forever? My head's been a mess since I put it all out there on the line with Griffin. How had I read the signals wrong? I replay our interactions over and over, trying to pinpoint where I misunderstood his intentions. The confusion and disappointment are like a weight on my chest. Whatever the case, I read them so wrong.

I finish towel drying my hair, tossing on a pair of jeans and a cute red top that hangs off both shoulders. The color is vibrant, a stark contrast to my mood. I don't bother putting on makeup because it's just a normal night at home. The natural look seems fitting for how exposed I feel after everything with Griffin. I have to work this weekend, and after dinner, I plan on getting a hold of Griffin to discuss the menu. Despite everything, work must go on, and I need to maintain some sense of normalcy.

As I head downstairs, the voices become clearer, and I realize there are more people here than just my parents. I step into the dining room and see Griffin and Callum setting the table. My heart skips a beat, and I freeze at the doorway, momentarily taken aback.

"Hey, Anya," Griffin says, his voice sounding more confident than I feel.

"Griff? What are you doing here?" I ask, trying to keep my tone neutral, though I'm sure the surprise is evident on my face.

Callum snaps his eyes to mine. "Mom and Dad went out. They asked Griff and I to babysit you."

I park a hand on my hip as I slowly slide my eyes to meet Griffin's. "Is that true?"

How embarrassing.

"She didn't ask us to babysit. She's just worried about you." Griffin's kind eyes slay me, and it makes me relive the moment he denied me play out again in my mind.

"She thinks you're depressed," Callum says, with his usual sneer. "Are you blue?"

"Shut up." I'm going to let my mother have it when she gets home. How could she call them? "Well, I'm not sad, so you two can go home." I try to shoo them out of the dining room, but Callum stands still.

"I'm fucking starving. I'm not going anywhere." Callum sits at the head of the table, and Griffin and I take a seat on either side of him, across from one another.

I can't even look at him.

"Hey," Griffin says, holding the salad bowl in his hands. "Do you want salad?"

I snatch the bowl from him. "Thank you," I say reluctantly.

"When are we doing this horse thing?" Callum asks after swallowing his bite of lasagne.

"We don't have to go." I finish plating my salad, and grab a roll from the basket. "It was a stupid idea."

Griffin takes the bowl from my outstretched hand, and his finger grazes across my pinky. And it's like lightning strikes. "No, I think it's a great idea. We're excited about going," he looks at Callum. "Right, Cal?"

Callum shrugs. "I guess. Sure, why the fuck not."

I can't understand why Griffin's trying to make me feel better. Ugh, it's because he denied me and now he doesn't want to hurt my feelings. Just like a big brother would do.

My appetite disintegrates, and I scrape my chair across the hardwood as I stand. "I'm going for a walk." I leave the house in a flash, not even sure where I'm going, but I need to get there fast.

My feet move to their own volition, bringing me further and further away from the house.

"Anya, wait," I hear Griffin's voice call out behind me.

I spin around, crossing my arms over my chest. "You don't need to look out after me. I'm not your little sister."

His face twists as he blinks at me. "I definitely don't think of you like a little sister."

"You hurt my feelings," I admit, and then inwardly cringe at how pathetic I sound.

"I'm sorry," he says, and I feel the pain subside.

There's just something about him. Griffin has a way of setting my soul free. Like his words make me feel all warm and bubbly inside. It's weird.

I need to head back into the house before Callum comes out to investigate.

"So," I say a bit awkwardly. "Horseback riding. Are you up for it?"

Griffin smiles and it nearly takes my breath away. "I can't wait."

What was I thinking when I agreed to take Callum and Griffin horseback riding? The sun sits high in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. The weather is absolutely perfect—better than any day I've ever experienced. The temperature is just right, not too hot and definitely not cold. A gentle breeze rustles the leaves, adding to the idyllic atmosphere.

However, there's one significant problem. Callum is nowhere to be found.

"I just tried his cell phone, and nothing," Griffin says, sliding his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. He looks good today, I notice. His dark jeans fit him perfectly, and his white t-shirt with the phrase ‘Chop It Like It's Hot' printed across the chest adds a touch of humor to his casual look. His hair is slightly tousled, and there's a relaxed confidence about him that makes him seem effortlessly stylish.

I can't help but feel a mix of irritation and worry. Where could Callum be? He was so excited about this outing, and now he's MIA. The stable owner is giving us curious looks, probably wondering if we're going to cancel. The horses are ready, their coats gleaming in the sunlight, and I can feel the anticipation in the air.

Griffin's brow furrows slightly, and I can tell he's concerned too. "Maybe he's just running late," he suggests, trying to sound optimistic. But there's a hint of doubt in his voice.

We stand there in the paddock, the smell of hay and leather mixing with the fresh scent of the outdoors. The other riders are mounting up, and I feel a pang of envy. This was supposed to be a fun, carefree day. I glance around, hoping to catch sight of Callum sprinting towards us, but there's nothing. Just the serene landscape and the occasional chirp of a bird.

"Should we wait a bit longer or start without him?" I ask, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on me. Griffin checks his watch, his expression thoughtful.

It isn't the first time Callum has bailed on an outing.

Griffin grabs his phone once more. "I'm calling the restaurant," he says, punching at his phone.

"Don't bother. Even if he is there, by the time he makes it here…" my words fall away thinking about my brother and how he's most likely at work. I swear he doesn't know how to have fun. "We can just ride ourselves," I tell Griffin.

Mr. Daniels smiles at us. "So, just the two of ya, then?"

I nod. "I'm so sorry about this. You know Callum," I say with a shrug.

Mr. Daniels laughs, because he does in fact know Callum very well. We used to play on this ranch when we were kids. Mr. Daniels taught us all how to ride, even Griffin. So, we're not new to horses.

"Just take them down to the watering hole, and let them rest and drink, and then you can bring them back later this afternoon." Mr. Daniels tips his hat at us as he walks the third horse back.

I grab the reins of Silver, my favorite horse. It's been a while since I've ridden. Silver's a beautiful Quarab horse with a coat of black and white hairs, giving it an almost silver appearance. Silver is the most intelligent horse I've ever known, and I'm happy I get to be the one riding her.

I mount Silver, and once I'm steady in the saddle, I walk her over to where Griffin stands in front of the American Paint horse, Honey, he'll be riding.

He mounts Honey, and then we're off, both of our horses moving side-by-side together. The wind in my hair reminds me why I love riding so much.

We move like fire through the fields, eating up the distance with ease. Silver runs smooth, and it's like no time has passed as she remembers me. I see the watering hole coming up fast, and I pull on the reins to slow Silver down.

Once we reach a good stopping point, I start to dismount. My foot gets snagged, and oh my god, I go down.

Fast.

Hard.

Oww.

My foot slips in something wet, and I land flat on my back. "What the…" my question slips out as I feel something slick down my back.

Griffin's eyes are horrified as he moves quickly to dismount and rush over to where I'm still lying in the grass. He makes quick work of securing the horses, and he reaches out his hand.

"I think I landed in poo," I tell him, wondering how my horse could have taken a dump so quickly before I even got off his back.

"I think you slipped in it too."

I take his hand, and he helps me up. "Umm," I say, trying to look at my ass to see how bad it is. "I feel it all over my arms."

Griffin laughs as he looks at me. "You have it everywhere. It's in your hair." He points to my hair. "Get in the water."

"What?" I ask him, looking mortified. This is the worst thing that could possibly happen to me. It's bad enough I'm covered in poo, but to have Griffin here makes it ten times worse. "Your clothes look spared, just a bit on your shirt. Maybe a bit around your ankle on your jeans." He cracks a smile. "But your hair and face."

I swat my hand along my forehead. "My face?" I question, smearing more of the shit all over me.

Griffin laughs harder. "I don't mean to laugh," he says. "But it's all over you."

My hand is covered, and I take it and run it over Griffin's arm.

He stops laughing instantly. "You did not just do that." He stares at his arm like it's got the plague.

Now I'm smiling, backing away from him. "Don't hurt me," I say, rushing away from him.

He chases after me. "Anya, oh I'm definitely getting you back for this."

I hold up my hands. "Don't get any closer," I say, using my poo-covered hands as weapons.

"You're disgusting," he says through a laugh.

I glance over at the watering hole. There's really only one thing left to do. "Turn around," I tell him.

He stares at me, obviously confused. "Why?"

"Because I'm going to take off my clothes and get in the water. You should wash your arm off too."

Griffin's eyes darken as he studies me. I probably look disgusting with horse poop all over me, but he doesn't stare at me like I am. "All of your clothes?"

"I'll leave my underwear and bra on. Just like a bikini," I say, parking a hand on my hip. "Are you going to turn around, or do I have to get undressed in front of you," I challenge him.

He spins around so fast, ripping his shirt off. "I'll wash my arm off," he says, moving closer to the water.

I unzip my jeans, and fling my shirt off, trying my best not to get them dirtier than they already are. I can't believe this is happening.

I'm in nothing but my hot pink bra and panties, and I move closer to the water, hoping Griffin doesn't turn around.

But kind of wanting him to.